Searching for a People
by fanficsawaityou
Summary: It turns out that the Winter Soldier is not the only asset that HYDRA created. When another highly powered individual breaks free, redemption seems impossible. However, maybe she can find peace (perhaps even a home) with some dysfunctional superheroes who seem to have a flair for the dramatic.
1. Asset 26743

**Takes place between The Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron**

* * *

The first sensation that pushes at the edge of my unconsciousness is the feeling of melting ice dripping down my neck. An instinctual and overwhelming wave of fear rises through my chest, although I'm not yet awake enough to consider why. The terror pulses through my lungs and feeds adrenaline into my heart, speeding my awakening. This dread paired with the lights flashing across my vision is enough to finally wake me, and my limited memory of what life has become explodes into life.

"Asset 26743."

Reflex rather thought drives my limbs into action and my vision intersperses itself with black as I stand. My right arm snaps to attention before my sight has even cleared.

"Mission imminent."

The voice is familiar, cold and void of life, and by the scraps of a soul I still possess, I **hate** him. This man is the face I see when I am both frozen and thawed, when sent to kill and return. All I want in this world is to personally freeze the blood in his veins and watch life flood out of his eyes but… I never will. He's my handler. There is no world but this one, and it is a world where even death is not an escape.

"Imminent, soldat!"

The lancing, arcing electricity of the cattle rod throws me to the floor but I'm on my feet before the weapon is even re-sheathed. I begin to suit up as my handler begins a muted Russian conversation with a faceless man on the screen before him.

"Will the asset be enough to hold them off?" The masked man's words are measured and controlled, though frustration trembles beneath them.

My handler responds with a barking, sharp laugh, "Of course she will."

I stand to attention as my handler stops in front of me and grips me by the chin, sending revulsion down my throat. There is a smile on his face that overflows macabre excitement and his words are tinged with gruesome pride.

"Not even the Avengers, _curse them_ , can defeat my Wraith."

* * *

The facility is in complete lockdown, every active asset is in the field, and _still_ they're quickly losing control. The facility has been attacked only five times in my time here but never breached before today; whoever these Avengers are, they're good.

Every call of the harsh, repetitive alarm is music to my ears. Every explosion and burst of gunfire is another crack in this facility's foundations and I am praying I will live to see the moment it collapses. Either way, some nameless feeling that surges through my stomach is telling me that this is the end. Of what exactly, I'm not sure.

"Threat approaching, soldat."

My mind snaps to the present and I take a fighting stance beside my handler. An uneasy moment passes before the door is blown off its hinges and the room fills with smoke. The room is intentionally humid at my handler's doing, and there's enough water in the air for me to make quick work of neutralising the vapour. By the time the space is clear enough to see, two figures have entered the room.

One is completely covered in red and gold armour with blue slits for eyes. His voice is cocky and calm despite the havoc that surrounds him, "Don't worry everybody, we've found our bad guy. You worry about clean up and we'll deal with Agent Smith and- I don't know who this is? Your sidekick? Hi sweetheart."

"Mr Stark, what a pleasure to finally meet. Please gentlemen, remove your masks; let us talk face to face like men."

Unable to resist the obvious bait, the armoured man's helmet peels back. I regard him with derision. _One jab at your manhood and you pull down your defences, saving me the trouble._ I turn my focus to the armoured man's companion. His suit is tri-coloured like a costume and his face is mostly covered by a mask and yet… There is something hazily and distantly familiar about him like a memory of a photograph. His eyes scan the room, studying every detail before landing on me. He moves to pull his helmet back ( _idiot_ ) and for a second, a moment of something related to hope grows in my chest and then subsequently dies; his face, although handsome, is equally unfamiliar. I meet his gaze, trying to piece the echo together before it dissolves. My handler steals my focus and the memory evaporates.

"How fitting, the great Iron Man and Captain America-" _The name is familiar also: who is this man?!_ \- "taken down singlehandedly by my Wraith."

"Wraith? That's fun. What's she do, haunt us?" The gaze of the armoured man, assumably Iron Man, flicks to me before returning to my handler.

 _Do not underestimate me._

"Laugh if you like, Mr Stark, but the Wraith is a miracle of science and faith. She is a weapon forged by the glory of Hydra's past but the key to building its future. Capable of breaking your strongest man with a touch, she is the reckoning of all Hydra's enemies and any who block her path."

Distracted by my handler's ostentatious speech, the two men fail to notice the hand gesture he signs to me.

 _Prime._

A very small but surprisingly persistent feeling of _wrong_ creeps into my mouth as I think of attacking this Captain America despite the fact that he is the easier target. The question of _Who is he?!_ continues to flash behind my eyes with every heartbeat.

"And you two are in the way." Another flash of hands.

 _Engage._

I am across the room with my hand wrapped around Captain America's neck before anyone can move. The room freezes as both Captain America and Iron Man realise the true threat at hand. My eyes are locked on my handler, waiting for a command, but the warmth of the skin beneath my hand stays at the forefront of my mind. The words of _wrong, wrong, wrong_ have escalated to a roar. I feel dizzy. A kill hasn't felt like this since… The thought drifts away before I can catch but the sentiment lingers nonetheless.

"I would consider your next movements very carefully, gentlemen, as the Captain will be dead before you could even beg for mercy."

I realise with a painful start that I don't want to kill this man.

"How pleasantly humbling it is to see Earth's mightiest heroes cowed before a single woman."

 _Heroes_. The word strikes an unwelcome cord in my chest. Something from before I became _this_ , something that I haven't allowed a voice in _so long_ fights its way to the surface. _Heroes are the good guys. You can't kill heroes, you're supposed to save them. They're supposed to save you._

I risk a glance at the man whose life I carry in my hands and once again I am swallowed by the feeling of _wrongness_ as our eyes meet. His face is calm with only twitches of fear showing in the clench of his jam. His gaze carries no anger or loathing, only composure and something that looks like pity. It feels like I'm looking into a mirror. I return my eyes to my handler before my own calm cracks.

"No last words, Captain? Mr Stark, no final pleas for mercy?" My handler is mocking them, hungry for their supplications.

Each man stands firm, but the Iron Man's body is fraught with tension; his hands shake, either from anger or restraining himself.

"We can help you," The soft whisper comes right beside my right ear, "You can leave here."

 _Is my turmoil so obvious?_ I give him no response, too afraid that my handler has heard his soft words.

 _Mayb-_

 _No, they're the enemy. Why would they help me?_

 _They're heroes._

 _So what, I am one of the bad guys. Heroes put bad guys in the ground._

 _I wasn't always a bad guy._

 _I'm sure as hell one now._

 _But I don't want to be._

The arguments sling back and forth in my head as Captain America speaks again, "You don't have to be what they've made you. You're more than a weapon."

This time we're caught.

"Enough with your lies, Captain! Soldat, neutralise."

I turn to face the Captain as my hand tightens around his throat. The monster that has been honed by my handler and all his minions screams _kill_ , and my power itches under my skin out of reflex. But, the little voice that speaks of heroes and my past builds into a steady roar underneath it, a repeating record of _you're more than a weapon_.

 _Am I? No._

 _Could I be?_

 _Maybe._

"Soldat, neutralise!" A tremor of fear escapes from under my handler's words and I realise that for once, I actually have a choice.

The facility is in ruins and there are no soldiers left here. If I kill him, there is no one to stop me. If I run away and throw myself into the sea, there is no one to drag me back here for resurrection.

 _If I follow these men, there is a chance of redemption._

I stomp out that hope out before it can grow.

Either way, for the first time that I can remember, my actions are my own.

My gaze turns slowly towards my handler. I can feel everything; the sweat running down his forehead, the moist air churning in his lungs, and the water pumping through his veins.

 _He's afraid_.

Good.

"Wraith… Finish the mission." His voice is low and measured, like trying to calm a rabid dog.

 _You wanted a feral animal. Here I am_.

My voice is raspy from disuse but the word carries across the room nonetheless.

"No."

* * *

 **So… this is hopefully going to be like a full series? It's just going to be something fun, with some drama but mainly fluff I reckon, cos that's what I'm feeling.**

 **If you want a cute scene at some point, hmu! All those cute headcanons that float around tumblr, heck yeah! Want Natasha to plait Cap's hair because it's been a long week, why not! Think Scott or Peter should pop up early, c'mon in guys!**

 **There's too much serious stuff going with the MCU and everything atm, I just need some chill stuff.**


	2. HYDRA's Fury

**Thank you everyone for the incredibly kind support!**

* * *

Before my handler can react, before these heroes can flinch, and before I can backdown, I am sprinting across the room. I charge him with my whole body weight, throwing him into the wall behind. His skull cracks against the concrete but he remains standing as my hand splays across his face, leaving only his eyes visible; they are wide with fear, his pupils nearly swallowing the irises.

My voice grates with neglect but the word is warmly welcome on my tongue, "Beg."

He doesn't speak but his breathing is picking up with every rapid heartbeat and his sweat is pooling around my hand.

I push harder, "Beg for your life."

One of the men behind me, Iron Man I think, begins to speak, "Don't d-"

"No man will ever control me again. This is my choice, and only mine," my tone is steel-sharp and he falls silent.

"I am your handler," He is shaking violently beneath my hand.

My tone is mocking, almost jovial, "So no prayers? No last words? No final pleas for mercy?"

There is no strength left to him and his words are desperate, "You will face the full fury of HYDRA for this."

I stare down the man who has caused so much misery in the world, not just mine. For a second, I think about relenting and letting him go. The thought of him crawling back to HYDRA on his knees to face a slow death is tempting… But no. His death is mine.

"I am HYDRA's fury."

Like a switch, I unleash the power itching through my arms. At first, the physical changes are indiscernible besides the agony spreading across his face. Slowly but surely, blooms of frost grow across his skin and the twitching of his limbs become jerkier as his joints freeze. Within the minute, his body has frozen over and the corpse is permanently carved into a statue of horror. I let go and step back, letting it fall past me onto the rock-hard floor. A loud echo of ice cracking resonates around the room but I don't spare it another glance. By the time anyone can recover the remains, there will be no resurrection.

I turn to face the living left in the room. I expect revulsion, fear, and more to be caking their features but surprise and apprehension are all I find. I take a step forward and instantly Iron Man's blaster are primed and aimed.

"Look everybody, let's just take a moment to calm down here."

"I have made myself clear. Move or be moved."

"Sorry sweetheart, we can't just let you go. Especially after all that."

Anger surges in my stomach. _I will not swap one cage for another._

I turn to the still silent Captain America, "You said you could _help_ me! I would not have spared you if I had known the price would be another leash."

Slowly, he places his shield on the ground and gestures for his teammate to backdown. For a second, Iron Man remains in a shooting stance and I brace for a fight. However, the moment passes and he lowers his arms, shaking his head.

"So you can manipulate ice, water, right? That's your power?" The Captain is keeping his distance but his tone is friendly, calm.

I hesitate but nod my head anyway. There is little point lying now.

"That makes you very powerful. That also means that people will see you as dangerous. If you go out into the world with abilities like your's, a lot of people will come looking for you."

I laugh and it comes out bitter and harsh like a snarl, "You misunderstand me. I will be free or I won't be at all. I refuse to be someone's weapon again. If I am chased, then I will disappear where no one can ever find me."

There is a flickering of understanding or pity across his face before he speaks again, "Do those have to be the only options? Temporary freedom or nothing at all? What if we could offer something better?"

I stare at him in disbelief, "I'm an assassin who just froze a man's blood in his veins and threatened to do the same to you. Why would you give me something better? Why should I believe that you would?"

"Let's just say that you remind me of someone I knew. I hope that if someone else stumbles across him that he would be given a second chance too. Because despite the fact that he's an assassin like you, I don't really think it's his fault." He takes a deep breath to fight back whatever is troubling him. "When someone fires a gun, you don't blame the bullet, you blame the person behind the trigger. And something gives me the feeling that you're the bullet, not the shooter."

The Captain meets my eyes and once again, some deep-seated feeling of faint familiarity washes over me. His words are gentle and something in me desperate wants to just join him. I have been fighting for so long and I am so tired.

"Steve, what are you doing?! She's not Bucky!" Iron Man's words cuts through my hopeful reverie.

I shift my weight between my feet, the ache of anxiety building in my chest. _This will not end well._

"It seems we've reached an impasse because I don't trust you either."

"I don't think that's true." My head snaps back to Captain America. "I don't know why but I think you know me, at least a little bit. Something stopped you from killing me."

I hesitate before answering, "I don't enjoy killing. I spared you because I have a chance to escape. I didn't need to obey."

He steps forward, slightly eager, "Yes, you showed me mercy, but it's more than that. I saw your face when we entered the room. You know me."

"So what if I know you?!" it bursts out, half-irritated half-unsure, "How can I trust you?!"

The Captain's smile is careful but sure, "I'm sorry but I don't know what I can do to make you trust us. All I can hope is that being the enemy of HYDRA is enough but I swear on my life that you can trust us. You're going to have to take a leap of faith."

Iron Man is clearly agitated and his face does not suggest he shares the other man's sentiment. However, he says nothing to contradict him.

"Do I really have another option besides being on the run for killing two heroes in my escape?"

This time it is Iron Man that replies, "How about being dead before you cross the room?"

 _Let yourself believe that you could kill me. Let yourself believe that I've been cowed. One day, I will be free. If this is the temporary price I pay, so be it._

I take a deep breath, knowing this path will change me, no matter where it ends.

I deflate slightly like I've accepted my fate,"So… where do I sign up?"


	3. Stay the Course

"I will not wear handcuffs."

Iron Man throws his arms into the air in exasperation and begins to mutter under his breath. Captain America's smile, though still present, is becoming increasingly strained. Every passing minute is further convincing me that I've made the wrong choice.

"You're a powered individual who created a human icicle not ten minutes ago and you expect us to trust you?"

"Of course not."

"Then put them on."

"No."

"Argh! Steve, you deal with her." This time, Iron Man walks away to collapse on a nearby crate.

The Captain contemplates me for a moment before looking down at my hands. My skin prickles for a moment before he's scrambling to pull off his gloves. He offers them to me earnestly. I just look back at him.

He presents them again, "How about a compromise? You can't freeze us and you're free to move."

The eagerness in his eyes to forge peace and help the wounded animal he sees before him almost mitigates my annoyance at his observation. _So he's already figured out I need to touch an object to manipulate it…there goes my element of surprise._

Careful to avoid skin contact, I take the gloves and consider them, "What happens if I take them off?"

"Then you'll have picked a side," his tone is casual, but the steel behind his eyes reminds me that Captain America had earned his military title.

I pause before responding, not at his words but because of my own realisation. _How do I know he was an actual soldier?_ The thought had felt too subliminal to just be a guess, and only works to further cement his familiarity.

I slip on the gloves and present my hand to him, "Compromise it is, Captain."

Captain America nods and shakes my hand while I resist the urge to throw him over my shoulder. Iron Man rolls his eyes from across the corridor but joins us nonetheless.

"Ok team, we're on our way back. Cap's picked up a stray, so watch out," Iron Man speaks into some receiver and gestures for me to walk next to him, obviously not trusting me to walk behind him.

The Captain draws pace on the man's other side and lets a few moments of quiet pass before speaking again, "Please, call me Steve. This is Tony."

The olive branch is kind but also given in hopes of eliciting my name. The Captain's hope will have to go unanswered as I don't even possess the information to answer him. The closest things I have to names are the Wraith and Asset 26743. However, even those titles are now meaningless.

I don't respond and the rest of the walk is endured in silence.

—

I stand before a semi-circle of individuals who ultimately look unextraordinary but somehow captured a HYDRA base.

"So, explain again what she does exactly?" An extremely disheveled man with a thick mop of dark curls leans towards me, curiosity swamping his face.

"As far as I, the resident genius, can tell, she can change the state of water molecules just by coming into contact with them. That means no touching, Bruce." The man, who had stepped within arm's length, quickly withdrew at Iron Man's words.

 _Ah, good to know I still have some tricks up my sleeve._

"A water magi? Elemental manipulation is old magic and rarely wielded on Asgard, but also much more than ice and steam, Stark. I would recommend caution, friends, as she is likely a very powerful witch."

 _Fuck._

Iron Man smiles, apparently amused that I have been caught in my deception, "That is good to know because we're taking Ms Magi with us."

The statement is received without complaint, and the sole woman before me picks up a pair of cuffs silently.

I tense and flex my hands. "I am not your prisoner."

Before anyone can move, Captain America quickly adds "It's okay guys, she's wearing gloves."

Surprisingly, despite the Captain's reassurance, chaos ensues.

"Sorry, what?!"

"You mentioned a frozen body not two minutes ago."

"Cap, seriously, you cannot take in every reject you find. Take it from me, it's how I got in this mess in the first place."

"Rogers, I think you underestimate a water magi if you think _gloves_ are sufficient protection."

The Captain makes a 'stop' motion with his hand and the hubbub instantly quiets. Furtively, I am not only impressed with his control but also by his team's obvious respect for him.

"Look. She chose to go against HYDRA and has agreed to compromise with us. I'm not saying that we're all suddenly best friends but this is a start. Anyway, where would any of us be without second chances?" His words are received with unhappy silence.

However, the moment passes and the woman turns away to board the nearby quinjet. A man carrying a bow and the other on- Bruce shortly follow her. The burly (and notably handsome) man who revealed my secret continues to study me and I return the favour. There is a certain cheerfulness to him even now that could be easily mistaken for idiocy or battle-lust but intelligence glitters behind his eyes. _Great, another one I've got to look out for. This is not going to be as easy as I thought._

Eventually, he turns towards the plane but not without pausing to whisper something Iron Man's ear. His grim nod in response fails to fill me with confidence as he too enters the quinjet. Finally, it's Captain America and myself left, both waiting for the other to move.

 _I could take him._

 _No._

 _I could just knock him out before anyone notice._

 ** _No._**

 _I-_

 _I will stay the course. For now._

"Don't worry about them. They'll warm up to you, I'm sure." The persistent, small, and genuine smile remains pinned to the corner of the Captain's mouth.

 _Christ, I'm thinking of knocking him out while he's trying to make me feel better._ I'd call him naive but the way he's been subtly yet carefully watching my hands shows me otherwise. _No, he's not gullible, he's just giving me a chance._ The thought sticks in my chest as I nod and move to turn from him.

However, before I do, a few simple words find their way to the surface, "Thank you…Steve."

I clamber into the plane to avoid his reaction and take a seat far from the others. I just need everything to stop, just for a minute, so I can try to piece my thoughts together. A few seconds pass and then a solid form installs itself in the seat next to me. _For fuck's sake, he's really not going to leave me alone._ I continue to stare at a single spot on the metal floor.

He doesn't speak until the quinjet is at cruising altitude. "So, what can you tell us?"

I'm caught off guard. "About what?"

I feel, rather than see, him shrug in response. "Anything. Important things about HYDRA, yourself, your past…"

There's a tiny shift in the water in the air that is imperceptible to everyone else but is like a slap in the face to me. _I've got this, I don't need HYDRA to be in control._ A lapse in control, an emotional response to a stranger, would not and could not happen again.

"There's not much to tell," it's not so much the truth as a not-lie, "They see me as a trained dog, capable of following orders but ultimately an animal. I was only told what was pertinent to my mission. As for me, they wiped my mind if I showed signs of anything from disobedience to memories. Sorry if you were looking for information but I'm coming up dry."

The last sentence is sharp, dipped in resentment and buried frustration. However, Steve's composure remains unwavering, only punctured by a tired sigh.

"That's alright, I figured that you would have undergone similar manipulation and treatment. I just thought it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Then why am I here?" The question comes out in a humiliatingly desperate rush before I can swallow it.

No one responds, and so I finally look up to regard Steve. His face is indecipherable and it's infuriating.

"Tell me! What's my purpose if not for information or leverage?"

Understanding or grief or pity sneaks into his eyes and he ponders his own hands before responding. The chatter of the plane has long since gone quiet.

Steve's words are clear among the still of air, "People don't need to serve a purpose to be saved. You don't need to serve a purpose. You're allowed to just…be."

I can't find the words to respond so I simply return to burning a hole in the floor with my gaze. This, unsurprisingly, doesn't stop him from talking.

"Let's start simple, then…How about a name?"

"I don't have one. I had a title and I had a number but they're not even mine anymore."

"Then pick one."

I give him a look like a second head has popped out of his neck, "That's not how names work. You can't choose your own."

He fires right back, "Why not? They took your name, so give yourself another."

 _He's prepared for this…I wonder why?_

"I…I guess I choose Eve. That name is important, I just don't know why."

While the name is familiar, I'm also certain that it's not my own. So, it only grows the list of things I've forgotten that are beginning to haunt me.

"Eve it is, then." There's a certainty in Steve's voice that I envy, the ease in which the name finds its home on his tongue.

Despite other questions and statements thrown my way, I remain silent for the rest of the journey. The only word that my mind can deal with at the moment is 'Eve' and what it could come to mean.


End file.
